Days Long Gone
by Crystal-Cinders
Summary: Long ago, two heroes fought over which way to take the future. Their argument became a war and their war became a tragedy as each hero drove the other to death. But even with the conspirators dead, the argument is destined to be finished and the burden is placed on two individuals-one who seems to know what they're doing whilst the other has no clue whatsoever.
1. Chapter 1

**3,000 years ago **

The strains of a harpsichord wafted out the open balcony windows, the gauzy drapes fluttering in the wind. In a ball gown complete with layers of tulle and lace, the humidity of the evening was stifling.

"Ma'am."

The girl standing at the balcony, her face turned towards the horizon, spun round to face the intruder. "What?" Her voice was full of weariness.

"Your father is requesting your presence. He demands that you be present at the ball thrown in your honour." His duty complete, the servant offered a low bow to the girl before slipping away into the shadows.

Before she had been interrupted, the adolescent had been watching the people waltz in the gardens below. Candles flickered in the night, kept aloft in glass balls suspended in the air. Everyone was grandly dressed, the girls in gowns and the boys in doublets. Even the servants were primed and groomed tonight.

One specific person had been eyed by the girl all night. Seated at the foot of a leaping fountain, there was a man who radiated power and wealth. A band of gold sat on his head, and an Arcanine rested at his feet. Two Bisharp were standing as his bodyguards. Even without his crown, there was no doubt about who he was—the King.

As if he knew he was being watched, the King raised his eyes and met the gaze of the girl on the balcony. With a single finger, he ordered her to come down to the festivities. The girl's unlined face became marred by an ugly scowl, but she did as he commanded.

It was hotter on the dancefloor. The sea of gowns parted for the young girl as she glided across the ground. The unhappy scowl was still on her face, and no one made any attempt to approach her as she neared the King.

"This is completely inadequate," she barked. "You know I did not ask for a party."

No normal person would ever dare to talk to the King like that, regardless of how kind he seemed. But as his only daughter, the girl could do—and say—what she wanted.

"Now, my little Pidove," the man said fondly, "you know this is necessary. I need to publicly announce your fiancé and what better time to do it than now?"

"I don't want to get married," the princess said selfishly. She knew that she was being uncivil and this marriage would ally two hostile kindgoms—but honestly! How could they expect to tie her down to someone?

"You're eighteen now," the man said sharply. "You're lucky you haven't been married off sooner."

With a sharp snap of his fingers, the music died down. The arcanine at the King's feet pulled itself up to its full height and took a seat at the monarch's shoulder. Everyone turned towards them as a hushed silence fell over the crowd.

"Tonight, I announce my daughter's suitor." Her father was growing old, the girl noticed. His voice rasped as he spoke louder so he could be heard by all the crowd. "I have decided that my only daughter and heir, Princess White of the Light Kingdom, shall be wedded to . . . Prince Black of the Dark Kingdom."

The crowd has known that their princess was to be married to the enemy, but their shock was still palpable even as the King's words left his lips. White saw some of her father's subjects watching her curiously, gauging her reaction. Without a thought, she defiantly lifted her head high, catching the gazes of whoever she could and giving them razor-edged glares.

There was a gentle touch on her shoulder and it startled her. Twisting around so her gown flared around her legs, White eyed the man behind her whilst sudden nerves writhed in her stomach. _Oh Arceus, this is him. _He didn't exactly look evil, despite the fact he was unfortunate with such an evil-sounding name as Black. It was similar to how White was named White, albeit she was probably the least innocent and pure girl in the kingdom. In fact, the loved to be a little troublemaker.

The first thing White noticed was that the prince's hair wasn't even black. Sure, White's hair wasn't white, but black was such a common colour nowadays. Instead, the boy's hair was an unusual shade of green, like faded tea leaves. It hung down over his face and fell to the small of his back, and unlike some of the slicked hair White had seen earlier in the evening, was rather scruffy. To give a semblance of neat, it had been tied back at the nape of his neck.

But just like White, Black looked just uncomfortable standing up in front of a judging crowd as she did.

White—who had made a point and had insisted that she would hate her fiancé—found herself drawn to him, despite her previously hateful words. His green hair was odd but his grey eyes were filled with warmth and life. Her lips twisted into a small smile and the prince reflected it.

"Would you like to dance, my lady?" He politely offered a hand and White slipped her own into his.

"I would love to," she purred.

As they waltzed over the dancefloor endlessly throughout the night, White couldn't help but wonder if this was really going to be so bad. Black seemed kind, and she liked him. Not to mention she would create peace between two warring kingdoms and save countless lives.

As dawn started to break and streaks of gold highlighted the sky, Black bid White a farewell. He told her he was staying the castle and would return to find her later on. With a nervous giggle, White watched him go and then wrung her hands nervously. _This was not going to be bad at all._

* * *

**Oh gosh I really, really hope I don't mess this up! I know N x Touko is a much loved couple (they're one of my favourites too, of course) and I've read a _lot_ of fanfics about these two. I know the same story can tend to get continually repeated, so I'm trying something a little different. **

**I know it's a bit odd - N being called Black?It's like _whaaaat!_? That's normally Touya/Hilbert's name! But it's just for the past, and so it fits in with the storyline. And there's no Touya in the past to I can do whatever I like.**

**Plus I know this chapter may seem a little rushed or paced too quick in some parts? (It does to me, at least.) For that, I'm sorry. I'm still practicing writing in third person - haven't done it for ages haha xD**

**DLG will skip between the past and present for the first few chapters before finally ending in the present and continuing from there. Uploads will be random, I'm afraid. I'll be working on something else on this account, of course, but also something else over on deviantART that's not fanfiction. **

**Oh, and Chapter 2 will be set in the present -**


	2. Chapter 2

"Ow!"

Touko yelped in pain as her Zoroark tried to avoid a passer-by and coincidently stood on her foot instead. Zoroark, however, cooed and regarded it's trainer with barely veiled humour.

Castelia City was bustling with people on the noon of the hot summer's day. Out of the corner of her eye, Touko could see the line for the Casteliacone stand; it snaked halfway around the block. With an irritated sigh, she passed on her earlier decision to buy one of the famed ice creams.

As if sensing her bored delirium, Touko's Xtransceiver took the chance to ring. With an instinctual tap, the screen flared to life and displayed a static image of Bianca. "Oh, good, you're in Castelia," the girl burst out. "Can you see me at the art gallery? I need to talk to you."

Another flicker, and the device switched automatically off before Touko could get any word in edgewise. Zoroark barked—the bipedal she-Pokémon was getting annoyed standing in the throngs of the busy, sweaty crowds where her groomed charcoal fur and dark rouge mane were mussed.

"Well, fine," Touko said to her partner. "We'll go to the art museum."

The Royal Castelian Museum of Art was much, much quieter than the swarm outside. Not only that, but it was _air-conditioned._ After a harsh warning regarding Zoroark, who refused to return to her pokéball—_you'll be permanently removed from the premises and expected to pay for the damages if your Pokémon causes havoc!—_the brunette was let in.

The cool air of the building's interior kissed her heat-flushed cheeks as the young trainer took in her surroundings. It was all very modern: white walls; chrome furnishings; opulent background music. Some well-dressed men and women gazed blankly at a large painting in one corner. The picture's large canvas took up the expanse of nearly the whole wall, and as she passed, Touko could easily see the image of one of Unova's archaic Queens reclining on a chaise lounge with a bejewelled Delcatty sitting at her feet.

"Hey! Touko!"

The shouting drew Touko's mind away from the picture. The source of the sound was a young female trainer with flyaway blonde hair cut short into a bob. A massive green hat graced the crown of her head and a long orange skirt clung to her legs and with a small yelp, she ran over to Touko, her small doll shoes silent against the marble floors.

"Hey, Bianca," Touko said breezily. "What's up?"

Bianca, however, frowned at her. "Have you been smoking again?"

Aghast, Touko replied, "No! Of course not! I wasn't even smoking the first time, seriously Bianca"—noticing the rising octaves of her voice, Touko hushed herself—"so of course not. Just because my father was one doesn't mean I'll be one too."

Bianca smiled, a charming small thing that brightened her face. "Good!" She chirped. "Just keeping you on your toes!"

Zoroark chuckled, and it was a deep raspy growl that could pass for a smoker's laugh. Snidely, Touko turned to her dark-type companion. "Have _you_ been smoking, Zoroark?"

Zoroark spat at her trainer and turned away.

"Anyway," Bianca continued, "there is a reason I wanted you here."

"Which is . . . ?"

"This." Bianca turned away and skittered off, beckoning Touko to follow. The ditzy blonde led the trainer and her Pokémon all the way up to the almost-empty top level of the gallery. On one side, the wall was all glass and there was a magnificent view of the Castelia City skyline. Beyond the buildings, the sky was just darkening to rose on the edges.

On the opposite wall was a grand fresco of some kind. It had been painted on a flat-faced rock and was primitive, in an opulent way. It was massive—even bigger than the canvas with the Queen on it downstairs.

"Wow."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Bianca sighed and gestured to the painting. "It depicts the battle of Reshiram and Zekrom."

The legendaries of Unova were hulking figures taking up almost all the space in the left and right corners. Zekrom's tough black hide was scarred and its ruby eyes spoke of a hunger only a good fight could satisfy. Reshiram was as graceful as a ballet dancer with its gauzy snow-white feathers and cool blue eyes.

"Who are those people?" Touko asked curiously. Hidden in the phantom smoke and obscuring dirt, two people were slightly visible on each side of the painting. On Reshiram's side the human looked like a girl; on Zekrom's side the shape was more masculine, despite the long hair and slim form. In the end, it was only the lack of a dress that Touko was able to identify the figure.

"Those two?" Bianca pursed her lips. "No one is sure, but most people assume that those two are the first King and Queen of Unova. Before their union, Unova was split into two sides—the Dark Kingdom and the Light Kingdom. Princess White of Light married Prince Black of Dark."

"Yeah, but what's with the dragons? And why are they fighting?"

"No clue! Hey, I'm not Cheren or anything, you know!" Bianca blushed. "All the stuff I know is only from the audiotapes."

"Huh."

Touko peered more closely at the feminine form besides Reshiram. Queen White, if that was who she was, had the exact same turquoise eye colour as Reshiram. In fact, Touko's favourite Unova legendary had always been Reshiram.

Peeling herself reluctantly away from the mural, Touko ran after the Bianca. "Does your audio guide say anything about Heroes of Unova? I mean, how did Reshiram and Zekrom get to them?"

Bianca's lone reply echoed emptily through the sparse room. "I'm not Cheren, Touko! I would suggest talking to the artist, but he died more than two thousand years ago! The _audio guide_ told me that!"

* * *

**Hiii.**

**There is one thing I'd like to make clear that has come up in the past: the capitalization of Pokemon names. Some think they should done as zoroark instead of Zoroark, but in the Pokemon Games, they capitalize _all_ Pokemon names and therefore I am going with that. **

**On the other hand, however . . . **

**Well, that's the second chapter up! We'll be returning to the past for the next chapter, but there is a _massive_ clue in this chapter about the scenario of the next chapter. Enjoy!**

_**Pokemon (c) Nintendo / Game Freak**_


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